


Sated

by impalaloompa



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Content, Smut, these guys just kill me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 22:32:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3225935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impalaloompa/pseuds/impalaloompa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Well," Wade struggled to keep his voice steady, "if I had known that me doing mundane shit like ironing was such a turn on for you, I would've done some sooner. I can do some more if you like, I'm sure I saw a feather duster in the kitchen. I could dust. All sexy like," but from the sly look Peter flashed him, he knew that he wasn't going anywhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sated

Peter turned the key to unlock the apartment door and bustled inside, closing it deftly behind him.  
He dumped his bag, took three long strides into the kitchen, tore open the fridge and gulped down mouthful after mouthful of milk straight from the carton. He grimaced when he thought of his Aunt May and how she would have scolded him, but he knew that Wade wouldn't mind.  
Suddenly, the lack of the Merc's presence caught Peter's attention.  
Usually, when he came home after a long day of gruelling work at the Daily Bugle, he was met with the chattering of the TV and big ass grin. But today Wade was nowhere to be seen. He wasn't lounged on the couch, or perched on the coffee table or leaning on the widow sill or any of his usual perches. The TV wasn't on, the play station wasn't humming, there were no weapons lying about for cleaning, there weren't even any books scattered.  
It always made Peter thrill when Wade picked up one of his favourite books. It wasn't often the mercenary read anything but he secretly liked the way Peter would look at him when he did. But no. Not today. No books, no Wade.  
Peter tried to ignore the dread pitting him stomach. Lots of crazy thoughts started filling his over-tired brain. Was Wade on a mission? Was he hurt? Why didn't he tell me he was going out? He always tells me if he's going out. Is he mad at me? Did I do something? What if-?  
He pushed open the door to their bedroom, and froze to the spot.  
There was Wade, wearing nothing but boxers, humming softly to himself. He looked relaxed, he looked content and he was... Ironing?  
Yup, definitely ironing. The ironing board was propped up beside their bed. A pile of neatly folded clothing lay on the floor. Wade's left hand was splayed over what looked like one of Peter's t-shirts, holding it still whilst he glided the iron across the material with his right. His hips swayed in time with his humming. His jaw was slack, his eyes bright.  
Peter drank in this domesticity. He marvelled at the Merc's strong shoulders, his abs, his muscular legs. His scarred skin looked almost beautiful in the dull light stretching from the bedroom window.  
Wade had never looked more peaceful and... at home. A feathery feeling rose in Peter's chest as he watched his boyfriend. He was all too aware of the horrors of Wade's past. The fear Wade sometimes struggled with, the self-confidence. It had taken him a long time to be comfortable around Peter. Peter was just glad he had been patient with Wade, especially if his reward was this interestingly arousing sight before him.  
He cleared his throat and Wade looked up. His soft brown eyes twinkling.  
"Hey Baby Boy. I didn't hear you come in," he hummed.  
"Wade, what are you... Why are you... Ironing?" Peter managed to ask as his thoughts turned to how much he wanted to run his hands over Wade's marred flesh, to make the Merc sigh and whimper and-  
"I dunno," Wade shrugged, "It's just you've been working so hard and I haven't had any jobs in a while and I just thought... That it would be... Nice-why are you looking at me like that?"  
Peter took a step forwards, innocence plastered all over his face.  
"Like what?" he asked.  
Wade licked his lips nervously, grip slackening on the iron.  
"Like-like that! Damn Peter," Wade forgot all about the t-shirt which was now receiving an iron shaped burn.  
"Maybe because I like you like this," Peter grinned, "maybe because I am so fucking turned on right now."  
"Really?" Wade's hairless eyebrows quirked up in surprise.  
"Mmhm," Peter nodded, not even trying to conceal the bulge in his jeans. He saw Wade staring at it and he gave a dark chuckle. He was now standing incredibly close to Wade, close enough to feel the heat emitting from the Merc's body but not close enough to touch. He could tell this close proximity was driving Wade wild. The way the Merc's breath hitched in his chest, the way his eyes widened.  
"Well," Wade struggled to keep his voice steady, "if I had known that me doing mundane shit like ironing was such a turn on for you, I would've done some sooner. I can do some more if you like, I'm sure I saw a feather duster in the kitchen. I could dust. All sexy like," but from the sly look Peter flashed him, he knew that he wasn't going anywhere.  
Peter pressed his lips against Wade's rough ones, keeping body contact minimal. He so wanted to touch Wade, to wrap his arms around the Merc, his Merc, and just feel him, feel his closeness, feel his love. But, he wanted to see how long Wade could last without any contact, with just their lips touching.  
Wade growled into the kiss, his confused frustration vibrating through Peter and hitting his groin. Peter broke. He pulled Wade into him, hands roaming up and down his scarred back.  
Wade sighed happily and he swiped his tongue against Peter's lips which opened compliantly. He dipped his tongue into Peter's mouth. His arms draped round Peter's shoulders.  
Peter nibbled Wade's chapped lip which enticed a low moan from the Merc. He could feel Wade's clothed erection pressing into his own.  
Peter broke the kiss to gasp for air then crashed his mouth back onto Wade's, teeth clashing, tongues fighting for control.  
Peter reached down and rubbed Wade's cock through his boxers. The sudden touch caused Wade to buck his hips involuntary, a slight whimper escaping into the kiss.  
Peter walked backwards, pulling Wade with him until they fell onto the bed. Wade's weight pressed him into the sheets and Peter shuffled slightly so that their crotches bumped again. He moaned at the friction.  
"Ah, shit. Peter. Peter," Wade tried to pull away but Peter held him fast, "no no you're t-shirt Peter."  
Sighing, Peter released Wade and the Merc scrambled off the bed to switch off the iron and peel at the ruined fabric. His mouth was down turned in an apologetic slant.  
"Don't worry about it," Peter smiled, "just a t-shirt. I can get more."  
Wade's face lit up again and he turned to throw the t-shirt into the bin. Peter took his moment and discarded all of his clothes with lightning speed. When Wade turned back to gaze at him he stilled, eyes wide. Peter waggled his hips at him, his hard cock bouncing off his stomach.  
Wade made a noise that was almost primal.  
"You're so god damn beautiful," the Merc mumbled.  
"I'm so god damn naked but, we now have a problem because you're not," Peter pointed at Wade's boxers and sat up so he was eye level with Wade's erection, "let's fix that, shall we?"  
Wade shuddered under his gentle touch as he traced his fingers over the scars on Wade's thighs. The Merc closed his eyes and rested his hands on Peter's shoulders.  
Peter dipped his tongue into Wade's navel then trailed chaste kisses and little nips down to the elastic of his boxers. With his teeth, his fucking teeth, Wade was now staring at him, he teased the fabric down.  
Wade hissed when his cock sprang free then gasped as Peter's hand was immediately wrapped round it and pumping slowly. Wade's grip on his shoulders tightened, his hips jerking in time with Peter's rhythm.  
Peter tore Wade's boxer down to his knees then pulled Wade back onto the bed.  
Wade flopped beside him with a breathless sigh and caught Peter's lips with his own. This time the kiss was slower, more passionate. Wade kicked off his boxers and let them fall off the bed. Peter resumed his stroking of Wade's cock and smirked into the kiss when he forced the Merc to whimper.  
"Fuck, Baby Boy," Wade hummed into his neck. He began kissing and licking the sensitive skin.  
Peter felt himself grind into Wade's hip. He put both hands on Wade's firm chest, flung his leg over him then sat up. Now that he was straddling Wade, he rolled his hips down, rubbing his cock against Wade's.  
Wade let his head loll back as Peter's bucking and hand jerking their cocks together sent waves of pleasure rolling through him. His hands were squeezing Peter's thighs, encouraging him.  
When the movements stopped he grumbled in protest but when he felt Peter's weight shift and heard rummaging in the drawers by the bed, he gazed up at Peter with excitement and anticipation fluttering in his stomach.  
Peter settled back on Wade's thighs, bottle of lube held up in triumph. Wade was about to offer him his hand when Peter squirted the lube onto his own fingers and smeared the gel so it coated his long, slender digits.  
Wade watched with growing arousal as Peter reached round behind himself and started pushing a finger into his own ass.  
Peter's face contorted with pleasure. Wade barely remembered to keep breathing as he watched his boyfriend prep himself, writhing and groaning above him.  
"This is so fucking hot," he managed to say. Peter flashed him a lewd grin before sliding another finger into his ass and pushing back against them.  
Through his haze, Peter grabbed one of Wade's hands and guided it onto the Merc's twitching cock.  
Wade's breath hitched as their twined fingers ran down his shaft and stroked his balls.  
Wade was loosing himself in the sight of Peter above him and almost forgot that there was a reason behind why Peter had his own fingers up his ass.  
Peter lifted himself up, grabbing the base of Wade's cock and slid himself down onto it. Slowly, slowly, wiggling his hips as Wade filled him. Wade gasped at the tight space squeezing his cock and he rocked his hips slowly, giving Peter time to adjust.  
With a grunt, Peter sat down hard so that Wade was fully sheathed inside him. He raked his nails over Wade's chest, absorbed in the sensation.  
He leaned down to kiss Wade again. A quick, hard press of lips on lips conveying love and lust and need.  
They stayed like that for a minute, still, eyes locked. Then Wade gave a little buck of his hips and Peter's breathless laughter rang in his ears.  
He rose up then slammed down without any warning. The moan he drew from Wade's throat sent blissful curls into his stomach.  
He picked up a quick rhythm, Wade thrusting up to meet him as he rolled down.  
Peter wailed when a particular angled thrust brushed against his prostate, sending shivers of pleasure through his body.  
Wade hit the sweet spot again, and again until Peter was a babbling mess.  
Wade was trying to keep himself together, trying to last as long as he possibly could. But with Peter fucking himself onto him, the noises he was making. Wade came with a guttural scream, his hips juttering as Peter rode him through his orgasm.  
He managed to reach up and tug at Peter's cock. The overstimulation had Petter coming in thick hot spurts. He collapsed onto Wade, breathing heavy, body shaking.  
Wade carded his fingers through Peter's soft hair. He sighed contentedly, pulling out of Peter and rolling his boyfriend onto the bed beside him. Peter curled up into Wade, enjoying his warmth. Wade rested his head on Peter's head, arms wrapped around him as if promising to never let him go.  
"That was... Fuck," Wade smiled into Peter's hair.  
Peter hummed against his chest.  
"You're so gorgeous Wade, so beautiful," Peter mumbled.  
Wade felt sleep tugging at his eyes, he let his gaze flick to the window. The sun had almost set. It's orange hue peeking round the buildings, illuminating their bedroom.  
Wade smiled again. He could feel Peter's slow, deep breathing ticking his chest. He leaned up a little to see if Peter was sleeping. Peter snuggled a little closer, pressing his nose to Wade's ribs.  
"Night Wade," he breathed.  
"Night Baby Boy," Wade let himself slip into peaceful sleep.


End file.
